


Erotic Marvel One-Shots M!Reader

by BigBandBombshell



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Erotica, I'm not going to tag all the naughty stuff, Other, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6723295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBandBombshell/pseuds/BigBandBombshell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you need a little hot and heavy with your favorite Marvel character? Then take a stroll through this series of one-shots where the world's mightiest heroes (and a few of their friends) let loose and show their wilder side. **These one-shots are PRONOUN FREE. The "F" and "M" in the titles refer to the genitalia of the reader's character. These fics are also as racially and body-type neutral as I could make them. They feature clear lines of consent and - aside from anatomical differences - are the same for both "F" Reader and "M" Reader. Enjoy!**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steve Rogers/Captain America

“Steve doesn't hate you,” Wanda says softly.

“It's been a week, Wanda,” you grumble back. The two of you sway against your seats at the back of the quinjet as Natasha brings you around for a landing.

“You said the date went well,” Wanda says. “He's not going to be happy on your date and then hate you a week later.”

“I could've been wrong. It wouldn't be the first time.” You glance up to where Steve is sitting in the copilot's seat. “He hasn't said more than five consecutive words to me since we left for the mission.”

“Maybe it's just mission fatigue,” Wanda suggests. You feel her extend a brush of calm against your mind and give her a small smile of thanks.

“He's been normal with everyone else. Just not me,” you say. “Maybe it's just too weird for him to date a team member.”

“He doesn't seem to mind Clint and Natasha,” Wanda points out.

“I don't think they would care if he did. They're kind of stubborn like that,” you reply.

“True.” She cocks her head to the side thoughtfully, then shrugs. “The only way you're going to find out is if you talk to him.”

“I will,” you reply. “As soon as I think I can face down the mortification.”

You look back at Steve once more and feel a blush heat your cheeks when you meet his eyes. Neither of you move for a moment, and then you give him a small smile. He blinks once, then turns back to the control panel in front of him.

“We're coming in to land,” his voice comes over the team's earpieces and more than one person sighs in relief. Long missions weren't that common and you were all ready to unwind after a week in the field.

“Talk to him,” Wanda murmurs. You give her a dry look and she shrugs. The doors open behind her and the two of you step out just as the quinjet touches down. Pietro speeds past you in a cold rush of wind and then he and Wanda are gone.

“Home sweet home,” Clint says. He gives you a smile as he trudges past, quiver dangling from one hand. Natasha comes up on your right and slings an arm around Clint's waist, then gives you a nod of farewell. You can't help the ripple of jealousy that turns your stomach as you watch them go.

“{Y/N}, return to the jet,” Steve's voice in your ear makes you cringe. You sigh and squeeze your eyes shut, your heart suddenly racing in your chest. The rest of the team moves into the tower without looking back and you hope that Steve at least had the courtesy to use your private channel for the call back. You didn't want them to share in the shame that you were about to feel.

Steve is the only one in the jet when you step back on board. He leans against the back of the copilot's chair and you squash an aggressive appreciation for the way his arms look when he crosses them over his chest.

“You called, Captain?” You stop a few feet away and cross your arms over your chest. For a moment you think you might throw up as a small save of panic laps at the back of your brain. Wanda might be able to read minds, but even she didn't know how much you feared the disdain of someone you cared about.

“You did well this week, on the mission,” he says. His helmet rests on the seat behind him and his eyes glitter in the cabin lights. You nod slightly and take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“Thank you.” You shift your weight from foot to foot as silence falls between you. Steve shifts his position and clears his throat.

“Things are... strange... between us right now,” he begins. You give a small nod and drop your gaze to his boots, hoping you don't cry. “I don't know what happened, but I want to fix it.”

A humorless laugh of surprise slips past your lips and you bite them to keep another one from following.

“I don't know what happened either,” you say as you look up at him. “You asked me to dinner and then stopped talking to me. Did I... did I do something?” Surprise crosses Steve's face before a frown settles in place.

“I didn't stop talking to you, {Y/N},” he says. “You seemed tense and I thought maybe you regretted the date. So I gave you space.”

“I wasn't tense until you started using 'five words or fewer' as the rule when you talked to me,” you say. “We've been in the field a week and you managed to find time to chat with Bucky or Wanda or Natasha. But the couple of times I tried to talk to you, you found somewhere else to be.”

“I thought,” Steve trails off and shakes his head. “I don't know what I thought. Maybe that you wanted to let me down gently, or that whatever this is,” he waves a hand through the space between the two of you, “didn't belong on a mission.”

“So you... you don't regret the date?” It rings hollow, but it's the only thing you can think to say.

“God, no.” Steve snorts a small laugh and shakes his head. He pushes off the chair and takes a few steps towards you. “I like you, {Y/N}. I'm sorry if I made you think I didn't.” You look up at him as a hesitant smile tugs at your mouth.

“I like you too,” you say. “But next time we're on a mission, could you act like it a little more? I mean, don't do anything stupid. But at least treat me like you do the rest of the team.”

Steve blushes and looks away for a moment. He runs a hand through his hair as the other drops to his hip.

“I'm not very good at showing a lady how I feel,” he says. “Not much call for it before the freeze and not much time since. I get quiet because it's... it's just easier.” His expression is guarded when he looks back at you. “I didn't mean to seem cold.” You let guilt build in your chest for a moment, then push it away. He's only a few steps from you and you close the gap, then slip your arms around his waist and press your lips to his. Your date had ended with a cordial “good night”, and you took a moment to revel in the way his lips felt. Warm and smooth as velvet, though stiff at first. But when he recovers from his surprise his lips soften and press against yours as his arms pull you in closer. His body presses against yours, radiating heat like a sun made human.

You expect him to pull back and he surprises you when one hand tangles in your hair and his lips coax yours apart. His self-restraint falls away in bits and pieces until his arms are like steel around you and his lips are hard against yours. The kiss becomes something hot and hungry and all at once you become aware that Captain America is pressing a hardness into your thigh that had not been there a moment ago. You pull back and hear him hiss sharply when you shift your thigh against his.

“I'm sorry,” he murmurs. Your vision seems hazy when you look up at him and you smile.

“I'm not,” you reply. You run one hand through his hair and trail the other down his chest.

“I just... I shouldn't have...”

“Stop,” you say. You place a finger against his lips and press a kiss to the edge of his jaw. “I don't know how things worked in the 40's, but I would have invited you in after dinner if you'd given me a chance.” Nerves flutter in your chest and you force yourself to keep your breathing even. You can handle a shoot out without blinking, but uncertainty gets you every time you look at Steve.

“You... you would?” He asks. You nod and remove your finger from his lips. Your hands settle on the buckle of his suit and you take a deep, steadying breath. Your nerves are rattled but his kiss had renewed some of the confidence you'd felt in his attraction to you.

“I still want to,” you murmur. Your fingers work the buckle at his waist until it pops open in your fingers.

“,” Steve growls. You look up, confidence fading. And then you see the look in his eyes. They gleam with a hunger you've never seen there before and it sends a shiver up your spine. “I can't... I mean we haven't even... I don't know.” He places his hands over yours but makes no move to pull them away.

“We don't have to figure out what we are, not tonight,” you say. “But after the confusion this week and the stress and that god awful mission, I know what I want.” You step close and whisper your next words in his ear.

“I want you inside of me.”

The words seem to end whatever confusion Steve has been battling and he backs you into the wall of the jet. His hands take hold of either side of your face as his lips claim yours in a kiss so fierce it made the last seem tame. It is almost painful, but you press back against him and make sure he feels your hunger. He fumbles overhead for a moment, then the exit ramp retracts and raises, sealing the the two of you into the jet. You arch your back and slide your thigh between his legs, shivering when you realize how muscled he really is.

“Are you sure about this?” He's breathless when he pulls back. You nod and grab him by the collar. Your lips sting with the pressure of the kiss and you whimper into his mouth. His cock twitches against your leg and you whimper again.

He pulls back once more but doesn't say a word. His fingers go to the buckle on the front of your suit and fumble there for a moment. It fights him until he curses under his breath and breaks it apart in a shower of pieces.

“Tony'll fix it,” he assures you. You can only stare at the ruined buckle. Your heart rate has nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the knowledge of what Steve could do to your suit.

“Why stop at the buckle?” You manage. Steve pauses and looks at you. You can almost pinpoint the moment he realizes what you want.

“Are you sure?” He arches a brow at you and you nod quickly.

“I've got more suits,” you reply. He bundles two fist fulls of material and leans in close.

“I'd like to ruin them too,” he whispers softly. You groan as he gives a hard tug and two holes open in the front of your suit. He pulls at the remaining shreds until you're nude from the waist up. His hands palm your breasts and you whimper as his thumbs rub across your nipples.

“Don't tease me,” you groan. “I need you inside of me.” He presses a kiss to the side of your neck and grabs the ruins of your belt. A few tugs later and they lay in tatters at your feet. You take a step back and nod your chin to his uniform.

“I can't return the favor,” you say. “But that needs to come off.” You watch as he peels the uniform off piece by piece until he stands nude in the center of the jet. He falters for a moment and his hands almost move to cover his nudity, then he squares his shoulders and closes the space between you. You gasp as he sweeps you up into his arms and lays you down on the bench that runs along one wall of the jet.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs as his fingers run from your shoulders down to your ribs. You shiver under his touch and mirror his movements. He gives you a lopsided smile and trails his fingers lower. Your breath starts to come fast as you shift to mimic the movement. His face is so close to yours that you see his pupils dilate when you each trail your fingers over the base of the other's cock.

“Lay down,” you say softly. His fingers pause at your root and his brows furrow until you nod down to the floor. “Lay down on the floor.”

He trails a nipping kiss along your throat, then moves back and slides to the floor of the jet. You take a deep breath and push off the bench. You stand over his head for a moment, appreciating the view. Then you slowly drop to your knees. Steve understands immediately and you nearly fall to the side in shock when his lips brush against your balls.

“Jesus,” you gasp out. It seems to encourage him. His lips part against your flesh, then he gently sucks until one orb slips into his mouth. He tugs on it gently, then releases it to tug on the other. You sway on your knees then force yourself to fall forward onto your hands. You wrap one hand around his cock and gently pull it aside so your mouth can continue the game of mirror. Steve moans as your mouth closes around the delicate flesh and you feel the vibrations run the length of your body. You return the favor and grin as his toes curl ever so slightly.

He tastes warm and musky in your mouth, but you're eager to move past Follow the Leader. You release the heaviness from between you lips and press your lips to the head of his cock. He gasps and pulls his mouth from your balls.

“{Y/N},” he moans softly. You hum quietly as your lips part and you slide him between your lips. He calls your name and the word echoes back to you as you swirl your tongue around the length in your mouth. His precum is a salty slick on his tip and you spend a moment gathering it on your tongue. Steve's hips squirm beneath you and you use your free hand to press him to the floor. He responds by sliding his mouth over the head of your cock and pulling your hips towards his face until he's taken almost your entire length. You swallow the slickness on your tongue and redouble your efforts, eager to encourage him further.

Your tongue runs up one side and over the head as you slide your mouth up his shaft. His head rests just inside your lips and you trace your tongue against his ridge before plunging back down his shaft. You suck gently each time you slide his cock from your mouth and each time you feel him groan against your flesh. The sensations make your toes curl and you can't help the jerk of your hips. But Steve only groans as you thrust yourself into his mouth. He takes a tight grip on your hips and begins to move them against his mouth in a slow, frustrating rhythm. You try to speed the pace, but his grip only tightens. You settle for matching his pace with your own mouth, your hands moving between his legs to rolls his balls in your fingers. He speeds up after a moment and you keep pace.

You tease each other back and forth, speeding up and slowing down, until you feel the tell-tale pressure building.

“Steve, I'm gonna cum.” You slide his cock from your mouth only long enough to warn him and press a kiss to the base. He only sucks at your cock harder and you groan as your lips slide back down his shaft. His hips buck against your hand as his balls tighten in your fingers and you nod your head eagerly. Your maintain your rhythm for a moment, but quickly lose them as darkness rolls over your vision and warmth shoots from your tip and down Steve's throat. You feel his throat work to swallow and you let out a deep groan that triggers a shiver that is your only warning before his cum coats your tongue. You swallow quickly, lips tight to his shaft to keep every drop in your mouth. He spends himself between your lips and you suckle him gently to make sure you'd received the last shot before you pull your mouth from his cock. You roll off him slowly, then turn and lay beside him, arms sliding around his shoulders.

“You're amazing,” you say. He turns his head and presses a kiss to the crook of your neck, then pushes up to his feet. Neither of you speaks as you clean yourselves up, even when Steve hands you a spare set of clothes from the stock kept in the jet.

“You're doing it again,” you say quietly.

“Doing what?” Steve asks. He's cleaned up the last trace of your coupling and sits on the bench, elbows on his knees.

“You're going cold,” you reply. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” he says sharply. “I just... I wanted to get to know you more before we.. I don't want you to think...”

You kneel before him and lift his chin up with both hands.

“I wanted this,” you say firmly. “And I want to keep doing it. And keep going to dinner, and keep figuring out where this can go.”

“I do too,” he says quietly.

“Then stop worrying about whether or not this was okay, because it was.” You smile at him and wait until he smiles back. “Just stop going cold on me, okay? My nerves can't handle that.” He wraps his arms around you and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I'll work on it, just for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song "Cold" by Crossfade


	2. Natasha Romanov/Black Widow

“It was, uh, sweet of you to ask me out to dinner on such short notice,” you smile at Natasha across the table. The waiter steps up with two plates of dessert and you fall silent while Natasha thanks him.

“It's my pleasure,” she says. She smiles at you then takes a bit of her dessert. You turn your attention to your own plate and neither of you says another word until the waiter returns and clears the dessert plates. Natasha waits a moment, then slowly rises from her chair and gathers her clutch from the table.

“I'm new to fine dining and all that, but don't we have to pay?” You glance around at the wait staff, but nobody pays Natasha any mind as she motions you to follow her to the exit.

“They have my payment information,” she says. “It'd cheapen the place to have people paying at the table.”

“Well la-di-da,” you mumble under your breath. She throws you an indulgent smile, then requests your coats from an attendant near the exit. You hang back until she motions you forward to take the coat.

“You're not normally this shy,” she smiles at you as you shrug into your coat.

“I'm not normally in New York for lunch and Paris for dinner. You do know I don't speak any French, right?”

Natasha waves one hand at you and links her arm through yours.

“I took care of everything, didn't I?” She presses her side against yours as the two of you stroll down the street.

“Well, yeah,” you say with a nod.

“And dinner was amazing,” she presses. You nod and give her a half-smile.

“So it's not so bad to be whisked off.” She lays her head on your shoulder for a moment, then tugs you around a corner.

“I still don't know how you managed to get clearance for the jet on such short notice,” you say. Natasha pulls a small card from her clutch and presses her finger against it. The quinjet ripples into view a moment later and the rear hatch lowers without a sound.

“I lied to Fury,” she says with a casual shrug. You watch her walk up the jet's ramp, hips swinging, and rub your eyes. They feel heavy, but you roll your shoulders and follow Natasha up the ramp after a moment. The last thing you need is for Natasha to know you haven't been sleeping, or that your nightmares have been getting worse.

“What lie did you sell him?” You ask as you slip into the copilot's seat. Natasha smirks at you then returns to working the controls.

“Does it really matter?” She shoots back. You shrug and lean back against the seat.

A few moments later the jet is speeding away from Paris, back towards the Avengers Tower in New York. Natasha keeps her hands on the controls until the craft is over the ocean, then she sets the autopilot.

“So are you going to tell me what's going on or do I have to drag it out of you?” She turns to you and leans forward in her seat. You stare at her for a moment, then slowly shake your head.

“I...” You trail off when she arches her brow at you. You bite your lip, then sigh. Lying to her now would be pointless and you both know it. “I haven't been sleeping lately. It's like I lay down to get some sleep and then all this restless energy comes out of nowhere.”

“Have you tried burning it off?” She places one hand over yours and squeezes gently. You turn your hand over so you can interlace your fingers with hers and nod.

“I spent the first few nights cleaning my apartment,” you say. “The next few I went to the gym. I wore myself out eventually, but I'm only getting a couple hours sleep a night.” You look up into her eyes and frown. “Nat, if we get called on a mission... I'm a liability.”

“Then we'll just have to fix your problem,” she says. She stands up and tugs on your hand, but you pull your fingers free and shake your head.

“I've tried everything. Nothing wears me out fast enough, deep enough.”

“You haven't tried me,” she murmurs. You look up, eyes wide. She takes your hand in hers again, then lowers herself into your lap. Her free hand cups your cheek as she slants her mouth across yours. You breathe in sharply and her perfume floods your senses, more delicious than any smell you can remember right that moment. You free arm slides around her waist and you pull her closer as she releases your hand and runs her fingers up into your hair. She tugs gently and you groan against her lips.

“Nat,” you whisper as you pull back. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” she whispers back. She slides from you lap and beckons you into the back of the jet. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths before you follow her.

Nat pulls the emergency bed rolls out of a side panel and throws them open, then pads the floor with them. She kicks off her heels and advances on you, her movements fluid with grace in the way only dancers and stalking cats can move. Her hands find your hips and she presses her lips to yours once more as her fingers slip around, finding the fasteners for your clothes. They fly open under her attention and she steps back with a smirk.

“Take off your clothes,” she commands. You shed the garments and kick them to the side, then shiver slightly in the chill air. “Cold?” Natasha taunts.

“I'd be warm if you came over here,” you reply. Natasha moves to stand in front of you, then slowly sinks to her knees.

Her fingers are warm as they wrap around your shaft. You hiss softly as her lips press to your slit, then part and slide past your head. Small, wet noises drift up to you as her tongue swirls under the ridge of your head and you slide one hand down to cradle the back of her head. She drops her fingers from your shaft and begins to slide you further into her mouth, her tongue slipping along the bottom of your shaft. Natasha doesn't stop until her lips are wrapped around the base of your cock, and her throat flutters against your head.

“Shit, Nat,” you moan. Your head drops back as she begins to suck. It's gentle at first but she increases the pressure until it's almost painful. Then she releases and draws back up the length of your cock. The air is even colder on the skin her mouth bares and you shiver as her lips trace the shape of your head. She pulls off and looks up at you, waiting until you look at her before she gives you a wicked smile. Her tongue darts out between her lips and gathers the precum from your slit. You can't help but gasp as you see her take the droplet of moisture into her mouth, then lick her lips.

“I want more,” she purrs.

You grin and press her back towards your cock, your fingers tangling in her hair. She takes you back in her mouth as her tongue flicks a trail of wet electricity along the bottom of your shaft. Her hands grip your thighs tight enough to make you groan and you match the pressure with the fingers in her hair. Natasha ignores you hand and sets her own pace, fast and deep. You feel her gag a little every time your head hits the back of her throat, but she doesn't seem to care. Her lips are impossibly soft against your skin and every swipe of her tongue makes your cock twitch in response.

“Shit, Nat.... I'm close,” you gasp. You don't want to be close, not remotely. You want to feel her mouth on you for as long as possible, but it's been so long that you can already feel yourself tensing. Natasha only sucks harder and gently scrapes her teeth along your shaft, once. It's a shock at first, but the way your skin tingles afterwards only makes her tongue feel better.

Your eyes squeeze closed as you fight the urge to pull her closer. Natasha grips your thighs tighter as you finally lose the fight to restrain yourself. You cum in her mouth, your shots running along her tongue and down her throat. It's a longer orgasm than you've had in a long time and you try to hold back after your fifth shot, but fail. You shoot twice more before you're finally spent. Natasha pulls back and swallows, then wipes the back of her hand across her mouth.

“My turn,” she murmurs. You sink to your knees across from her and take her face in both hands. Her lips are salty but you ignore it as you slip your tongue between them. She presses against you as her arms come up around your neck, her skin flushed warm with desire. You free your hands and find the zipper on the back of her dress, easing it down before turning your attention to her bra.

“Slip those off for me?” You murmur. Natasha smirks as she moves back from you and stands up to shimmy out of her clothes. She reaches for her garter belt, but you shake your head.

“Leave those on...please?” You ask.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” she teases. Her hands move to her panties and she pushes them off. Her black garters are stark against her skin and you can't help but lick your lips as you take her hands in yours.

“Where do you want me?” She purrs. You look up at her and return her smirk. Your lips press to her belly as you release her hands and trail your fingers up her inner thighs. They're damp and you lick you lips. You lean back and grab one of the bed rolls from the floor, then throw it open over the bench that runs along one side of the jet.

“On the edge of the bench, if you would,” you say. Natasha arches a brow and sits delicately at the end of the bench. You crawl towards her and then nudge her legs apart with your shoulders. She leans back and props herself up on her elbows as you put a thigh over each shoulder.

Your hands come up over her legs, massaging the skin as they go. You pause at her garter straps, then look up at her. Neither of you looks away as you gently snap one against her thigh, then the other. Natasha doesn't make a sound but her breathing comes in shorter bursts as a light pink spreads along the skin under the straps. You keep your eyes locked to hers as you press a kiss to each spot. It isn't until you shift your hands to come up between her thighs that you look away.

“Hold on to me,” you murmur. Natasha hooks her ankles behind your back and leans further onto her elbows as you gently massage her lips. Her eyes are heavy-lidded when you look up at her and she nods softly as you lean forward.

Youe tongue slips between her lips just over the nub of her clitoris and she hisses, her head falling back. The hiss turns into a groan that you build into a moan as your tongue teases closer and closer to the bundle of nerves. You find it and move in gentle circles around it until Natasha's hips buck up against your mouth. Then you lash your tongue across her clit, your hands holding tight to her thighs. She groans your name and slides one hand into your hair as her hips buck roughly under your attentions. You hold back a grin and release one of her thighs, holding her lips apart with two fingers.

“Damn it,” she moans as your tongue halts its attentions on her clit. You nuzzle your nose against the sensitive nub, then dance your tongue along first one lip, then the other. Natasha whines gently and this time you can't help the grin. You sink your tongue into her and delight in the way her muscles move against you, urging you to taste more of her.

“I want to cum on your tongue,” Natasha murmurs. You pull back and press a kiss to her thigh, eyes twinkling when you see the look of need on her face.

“I think I can arrange that,” you reply. Natasha groans, a low sound of frustration, and you give her a smirk before you slowly press one finger into her. She whines again and you add a second finger, then a third.

“Yes,” she gasps. Her body tightens around your fingers, squeezing hard as her hand pushes your lips back towards her clit.

You let her guide your mouth to the perfect spot before you begin flicking your tongue. She lets out a scream of pleasure, but muffles the sound against her arm. It still rings against the bulkhead and the sound drives you on. Your fingers press up as you withdraw them and you feel her thighs shiver as her body presses harder against you. Natasha whimpers as you crook your fingers then slowly slide them deeper once more.

“Faster, please,” she pants. You oblige, both with fingers and tongue. Her hips jerk under you and you begin to thrust your fingers even more quickly, delighting in the increased wetness you feel with each push back inside of her. Her hand tightens in your hair and a moment later a small flood of wetness coats your hand as Natasha's moans fill the jet. You still your tongue and suckle gently on her clit until her body goes soft beneath you. Only then do you slide your fingers from between her thighs and sit back.

You lay your head on her thigh and the two of you take a moment to catch your breath. Natasha is the first to move and you raise your head so she can roll off the bench and onto the floor of the jet.

“Towel?” She asks. She holds out a towel she's pulled from a small stash under the bench and you take it gratefully. You wipe your hands and face, then hand it back. She cleans up, then slips back into some of her clothes. She throws you a few pieces of your clothing as well, then sets herself to arranging the bed rolls. By the time you're dressed she's made something resembling a comfortable bed and is holding the blankets open for you.

“Think you can sleep now?” She asks. You think for a minute, then nod and pull her into your arms.

“If I wake up, will you help me get back to sleep?” You tease. Natasha rolls her eyes, then shifts until she can press her mouth to yours. It's a slow kiss, warm and deep, and the nod afterwards only confirms the answer. You settle against one another as your eyes drift shut. The roar of the engines seems to dull as sleep slips over you.

Natasha shakes you awake a few hours later and helps you into the rest of your clothes.

“We there?” You mumble. Natasha answers by dropping the rear ramp of the jet. Attendants head towards you as Natasha leads you down the ramp and into the building. You lean against her heavily as she keys in the code to her apartment. It isn't until you wake up in her bed the next afternoon that you realize that you'd spent the night in her room.


	3. Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier

The wind is bitter out on the balcony, but you don't care. You pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders and turn you face into the wind, willing it to keep you awake. Sirens scream by on the streets below and you have to stop your mind from imagining what kind of scene the first responders are heading to. You've seen enough death and grief in your time with the Avengers. You don't need to shoulder the imagined burdens of the local police too.

“You're going to catch pneumonia out here.” Bucky's voice is soft in your ear, but you jump all the same. He wraps his arms around you and your heart rate slows almost immediately. You hadn't realized how cold you were until you realize the metal of his arm is warm against your cheek.

“I've told you before, that's not how you get pneumonia.” You press your face into his flesh arm and breathe in the scent of his skin. It comforts you and for a moment you feel yourself drawn towards sleep. You fight the urge and sit up straighter on the chair.

“Old habits,” he says with a shrug. “Pneumonia or no, you should come back to bed.”

You want to, and you almost tell him so. But you're so tired of the nightmares. Of waking up in terror, groping for him in the darkness to make sure he's still there and he's still breathing.

“I can't,” you finally manage.

“Still with the nightmares?” He comes around to kneel in front of you and you nod slowly. 

“They won't stop,” you say. You can feel tears creeping into your voice and frown as you choke them back. “I've talked to Nat, I've had Wanda take a look inside. I even asked Bruce if he had any good tips for pushing the bad stuff away. Nothing is working.”

“So you're going to sit out here and freeze instead?” He stares at you and you feel a blush of shame warm your cheeks.

“At least it keeps me awake. I got some stims from the docs on base, but I can only take so many in a day. I figure if I wear myself out enough, the dreams won't wake me up.”

He's silent for a moment. Then a frown slowly darkens his face.

“That is the stupidest idea I have ever heard,” he says. “You're more likely to die of heart failure than stop these nightmares.”

“I don't know what else to do, James.” This time the tears won't be held back and they begin to roll warmly down your cheeks. “I can't keep waking up every few hours choking on a scream. What happens when you're on a mission? You can't make them go away when you're not here.”

“That's why you need to let me help you,” he says. He stands up and tries to pull you to your feet. You fight him for a moment but he's strong enough that it doesn't matter. He picks you up, blanket and all and carries you back inside. The door rattles as he kicks it closed and you glance back in fear he's broken the glass, but the door is intact.

“How are you going to help?” You ask. “I've seen therapists, telepaths, the works. Nothing has helped. I'm just not made to be an Avenger. I can't handle the darkness.” Your breath rushes out of you as he drops you onto the bed. 

“You can handle darkness,” he says softly. “You handle mine.”

“You do most of the work,” you say.

“I've learned a few coping tricks over the years,” he admits. He slowly unwraps your blanket and lays it flat on the bed. You shiver as the warm bedroom air meets your chilled skin. His fingers creep down to your socks and pull them off slowly. "There are a few I think we should give a try."

“What are you doing?” Suspicion creeps into your voice but Bucky only gives you a wide-eyed look of innocence.

“I'm just trying to warm you up, darlin'.” He rubs your stiff feet for a moment, then slides up the length of your body. 

“I'm sensing an ulterior motive, sergeant.” You push up onto your elbows and arch an eyebrow at him. He looks at you with the cold, neutral expression he usually reserves for the field and you feel a new kind of shiver roll down your spine.

“I love you, {yn}. I can't make the nightmares go away, but I can think of a better way to exhaust you than freezing while you overdose on stimulants.”

“I love you too,” you say. You cup his face with your palm but he surges forward and your hand slides down to his ribs as he pushes you down to your back.

“You're going to let me take care of you,” he says. “And that's an order.”

“You don't outrank me, sergeant,” you reply. Your mind has no trouble ignoring gruesome thoughts, at least for the moment. It has focused squarely on the commanding tone in Bucky's voice.

“Right now, I surely do.”

He kisses you and it's not gentle. It is deep and hard and hot and your breath catches in your throat. His lips open yours and he tastes you with a possession you've rarely seen in him before. 

“Bucky...” You manage his name in a whisper when he pulls back, but your breath rushes out when his teeth graze your collar bone. 

“Take your shirt off.” He growls the words into your flesh and then pulls back to untie the drawstring of your pajama pants. You arch your back and pull the shirt over your head fast enough that you're sure you hear a seam rip. Your nipples are still hard from the cold air and his mouth is searing hot when it closes around one. He flicks his tongue against the bud so fast that you can barely tell when one lash ends and the next begins. He isn't any more gentle on the other one when he moves his mouth and you feel yourself harden even further against his thigh.

His hand skims down your body and he coaxes your legs apart. You groan as his fingers find your balls and massage them deftly. He cups them in his palm as he brings his head up and nips at your earlobe.

“Well at least this part of you is warm,” he teases. You turn your head and he captures your lips in another searing kiss. His fingers squeeze then tug gently and the movement sends electricity to the tips of your fingers. You feel him smile against your lips as you thrust up into his hip. He rewards you with a soft growl and you take a moment to smile in turn.

“I need you,” you groan when he pulls away from the kiss. 

“You've got me,” he replies. You whine softly and thrust up into his thigh again but he ignores you and leaves a small trail of nipping kisses down to your collarbone.

“I need you inside of me,” you say. He pauses his kisses and smirks up at you, but his fingers maintain their taunting rhythm of tugs, squeezes, and rolls.

“Are you sure about that?” He arches a brow as you nod. His fingers release you and you shiver as your skin suddenly meets cold air. You watch as he pushes off from the bed and stands up, hands working the drawstring of his pants. They fall to the floor and his erection draws your eye. He looks painfully hard and you lick your lips as he crawls back onto the bed.

He kneels beside you and slips his fingers behind your neck.

“You want me inside of you?” He asks and you nod. “Good.” He pulls you up gently, fingers firm against your neck. You open your mouth as it meets the head of his cock and groan as the soft skin slips over your lips. He tastes warm and musky and you suck gently as you outpace the pressure of his hand and open the back of your throat. You gag for a moment, but the feeling passes with just a little effort as he slides fully into your mouth.

“Shit, {yn},” he says. “You are too damn good at this.” He breathes in sharply through his nose as his hips buck against you mouth. You pull back as he bucks again and his fingers tighten on the back of your neck. Your cock throbs painfully as his hips begin to move in a slow, confident rhythm. He's not trying to cum, at least not yet. But you feel every bit of his shaft as it slips over your lips and the sensation has your head spinning.

“Is that what you wanted?” His voice is gruffer now and you look up at him. It's not a comfortable position, but he seems to like the way it looks as he presses his full length into your mouth. He can see your answer in your eyes and smirks even as his cock twitches against your tongue.

“You wanted me on top of you, didn't you?” He runs his hand over your hair as you nod slightly and pull your lips slowly up his cock. You keep them tight around his shaft and hear him hiss softly until his head pops from between your lips.

“You know what I want, sergeant,” you murmur. “Please don't make me ask again.” 

You flip onto your stomach then push up to your knees as he crawls off the bed once more. He opens the door of his bedside table and pulls out the bottle of lube and a condom. The bed shifts under your knees as he takes his place behind you. 

“You look amazing in this position,” he says softly. His hands massage your ass cheeks until one of them moves around and his fingers wrap around your shaft. Your groan is chest-rattling as he pumps his fist over your flesh and you feel his cock throb between your cheeks.

“Please, Bucky,” you moan. He squeezes your cock one more time, then releases you and rises onto his knees. You hear the condom's foil wrapper rip and a soft rustling noise as he rolls it over his length. A moment later you hear the click of the lube bottle's lid, and then a steady stream of cool liquid slides between your cheeks. You hiss and clench briefly until Bucky's finger works between your cheeks and begins to rub the lube around.

It warms quickly and soon you’re pushing back into his touch.

“Patience,” he chides you. 

“I don't want to be patient,” you whine. He tsks a few times, but his finger moves against your entrance more quickly. 

"Are you ready?” He asks. You nod and drop your head to the bed so you can watch him from between your legs. His toned thighs are tight as he balances behind you and his balls hang low. You try to reach back and fondle them but they're too far away, so you settle for your own. His finger pushes into you suddenly and you drop your hand to the bed to steady yourself as you let out another loud groan. If you had any close neighbors on the floor they would know exactly what you and Bucky were up to. As it was, you were sure the few neighbors on your floor would hear you, regardless of their distance from your room.

“Relax for me, darlin,” Bucky murmurs. You take a deep breath and will your muscles to relax. He rewards you with a soft “perfect” that you can tell came out from behind his trademark smirk. His finger works your ass slowly until he slips a second finger inside. He pauses to add a few more drops of lube, then works them into your ass as his fingers find your prostate. You hiss and he lets up for a moment, then returns with a gentler pressure. 

You pant into the heavy silence as he opens you up enough for a third finger and a little more lube.

“Fuck me,” you manage. Your balls ache and your cock jerks each time his fingers brush your prostate. You want to cum, but you don't want to do it until he's inside of you.

“So demanding,” he teases. He works you with his fingers for a few minutes more then withdraws them. You bite your lip to stop a frustrated groan and then lose your control when you feel his head press against you. There is a moment of pain and he drizzles a little more lube onto the point where his cock meets your flesh. Then his hands are on your hips, thumbs rubbing gently. 

“Ready?” He asks again. You place your hand over his and squeeze. He thrusts forward and the tip pops past the tight ring of your ass. You both groan long and low as he holds the position. It burns, but the pain vanishes after a moment and you're left with a feeling of warm fullness. He slowly slides deeper and you push back into him to make sure he doesn't hesitate. You can barely breathe for the pleasure and you only draw in a gasping breath when his hips are pressed against your cheeks.

“You feel amazing,” he pants from above you.

“I was going to say the same,” you shoot back. He squeezes your hips and begins a slow withdrawal, then stops when his head meets the resistance of your entrance. His next thrust is faster and you press your face into the sheets to muffle your moans. 

You move against each other in slow, controlled thrusts for a few more moments. Then you feel him lay against your back and take your cock in his fingers again.

“I want you to cum with my dick up your ass,” he whispers in your ear. He presses a kiss to your back and begins to stroke you as his hips set a steady rhythm. You buck back into him and he speeds up until the sound of skin slapping against skin rivals your moans for dominance in the stillness of your room. You're closer to cumming than you want to be, but you don't fight it when you feel your balls tighten and your cock twitch. 

“Cum in me,” you gasp. 

“Happy to,” he replies. His cock jerks in your ass and you cry out. The sensation is the final straw and you cum in several long shots that leave wet streaks on the sheets below your belly. The final shot leaves a trail over his fingers and he uses the slickness to speed the pace of his hand on your shaft. 

“Jesus,” he gasps. You squeeze your ass around his cock and he lets out a deep, rattling groan. You feel the heat of his release even through the condom and you shudder in his arms. His hips slam against you in fits and starts until he finally goes still, chest pressed to your back. He kisses your shoulder after a moment and gives your cock a final, gentle squeeze. Then he releases his grip and slowly pulls himself from between your cheeks.

The sheets beneath you are wet with your release but you collapse onto them all the same. 

“Now that,” he says with a smile, “was fantastic.”

“Tell me about it,” you reply. He kisses you quickly, then moves aside and lets you roll out of bed. When you come back from the bathroom he's remade the bed in your favorite soft sheets and has turned your side down. You slide in gratefully as a yawn forces its way out, then wait until he gets done with his turn in the bathroom. When he comes back, he snuggles you into his chest and begins to stroke your hair.

“If you wake up again,” he says, “I will be more than happy to wear you out.” You smile into his chest but your mind drifts off before you can answer.


	4. Thor Odinson/Thor

The cabin of the quinjet is silent as Natasha finishes running through the landing procedure. You resist the urge to tap your foot as you wait for her to drop the ramp. 

“{YN},” she begins. You cut her a glare and she presses her lips together.

“Don’t start, Nat. Thor was reckless and damn near got himself killed.”

“He was covering your back,” Natasha says. “Any one of us would have done the same if we’d been close enough.”

“Yeah but -” You fall silent, willing the heat in your cheeks to fade. Natasha, never one to miss a facial queue, arches a brow as her lips twitch into a brief smile.

“Oh, I think I get it now.” She says as she turns back to the controls. A second quinjet roars overhead before landing beside yours. A moment later the aerial members of your team land in a scattered formation around the two jets, Thor among them. 

“You should probably tell him.” Natasha glances at you. “Ya know, before something happens to one of you.”

Her words drain the heat from your face and leave you cold. It wasn’t like you hadn’t though the same thing. It was, after all, the reason you were so mad at Thor. He’d damn near taken a bullet for you and it was pure luck that the shot had glanced off one of the metal circles on his battle gear. 

“Just drop the ramp,” you mutter darkly. “I’m tired and I need a shower.”

Natasha looks you over and purses her lips but she doesn’t argue with you. The jet whines as the ramp drops and you storm onto the tarmac.

“{YN}.” The voice is so close, so unexpected, that your fist is moving through the air before you process who had spoken. Luckily Thor’s reflexes are faster than yours and he dodges out of the way. 

“What do you want?” You snap. Thor frowns in return, though from the way the expression settles on him it’s clear he’s been frowning for some time.

“We need to talk,” he says. “Shall we share an elevator to our floor?” 

“You never take the elevator.” You turn and walk away, hoping he’ll get the hint. Thor, being Thor, either doesn’t get it or chooses to ignore it.

“I am not usually at odds with you.” He falls into step beside you and your jaw clenches. 

The rest of the team lingers on the tarmac, most of them with the grace to pretend interest in something other than your argument with Thor. Tony and Rhodey, however, are openly staring. Tony waggles his brows at you when you meet his eyes, making Rhodey crack a smile before he slaps Tony on the chest and redirects his attention. Your temper flares but Thor motions you into the elevator and steps in beside you before you can snap iron-clad idiot.

“I don’t know what I have done to offend you,” Thor begins. You groan and lean back against the wall, arms crossed over your chest. Thor’s frown deepens as he goes on.

“But I value your friendship and I don’t want this... whatever it is... to stand between us.

Your heart twists painfully, the word “friendship” a knife slid between your ribs. The rest of the team were your friends but Thor meant something else to you. In some ways he meant more. And while Natasha had a point, your throat seemed to swell shut every time you thought of telling him.

“There’s nothing between us, Thor.” You answer, wincing at your own double meaning. “I had the situation under control and you endangered yourself to protect me. I-”

“I was in no danger,” Thor cuts in. 

“You’re not impenetrable, Thor.” Anger flares hot under your skin and you push away from the wall to jab a finger into his chest. It’s like jabbing your finger into fabric-covered stone. “That bullet could have ripped into your heart just as easily as ripping into mine.”

“I am not mortal, not like you are.” Thor’s voice rises a fraction in volume as he takes a step back from you. 

“Oh, believe me I know, You use that as your excuse every time you charge into danger. Vikings may have made you a god, Thor Odinson, but you can suffer and bleed and die like anyone else.”

“Do you have the same concerns about Banner or Rogers or Stark?” Thor shouts. Anger snaps in his eyes and for a moment storm clouds seem to gather outside the elevator’s glass walls. You register them dimly as you shake your head.

“Of course not, because they’re not-” You cut off, eyes going wide.

“Not what?” Thor demands. This time he takes a step closer and you back up. Your back hits the elevator wall and still Thor advances, stopping just far enough away that you can’t evade the question but he isn’t looming. Yet.

You shake your head.

“They’re not... uh... not...” Your face is on fire and you can’t bring yourself to meet Thor’s eyes. Silence rings through the car for a moment before you finally lift your gaze to his. 

The anger is gone and his frown has softened into confusion. His gaze searches yours and after a moment the frown disappears altogether. With it go the storm clouds outside.

“{YN},” he says softly. You look away again but Thor slides a finger under your chin and lifts your gaze back to his. His eyes flick over your face until they come to rest on your mouth. He glances up at you, once, then tips his lips down to yours.

The elevator chimes as it stops at the floor the two of you had been assigned to, but you hardly register the sound. Thor’s lips are warm and so, so soft against yours. His finger is still under your chin but his other arm circles your waist and you feel your knees begin to shake. Every ounce of anger seems to spill out of you as you kiss him, your arms thrown around his shoulders. It’s a long moment before either of you pulls back, arms still tight around one another. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” FRIDAY says. “But there are others in need of the elevator and I cannot hold it much longer. Will the two of you be staying on this floor?” 

“Yes,” Thor says quickly. He wraps your hand in his own and leads you from the car

“Enjoy your day,” Friday says. Then the elevator doors slide closed and the car vanishes down the side of the building. 

Neither of you speaks and you find yourself struggling to meet his eyes. Then Thor tugs on your hand once more, pulling you into his chest.

“I think I understand now,” he says. You glance up at him and feel your cheeks warm when you find him smiling down at you.

“I... it’s...” You stammer then give up, simply shaking your head. Thor chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead, making your eyes go wide with surprise.

“Did it ever occur to you that I stepped in front of that gun because I wanted to protect you? That the thought of a bullet finding you was -" He falters, eyes searching yours. "I couldn’t allow it.”

“Why?” You ask, though you’re sure you already know the answer. But you have to be certain, have to hear him say it.

Instead of speaking, Thor simply kisses you again. It’s harder and hotter than before and your head is spinning after only a moment of contact. You’re so caught up in the feel of his mouth on yours that you don’t realize he’s moved you down the hall until your back bumps into the wood of a door. You turn your head, breaking the contact as you blink to clear your vision.

“Come inside with me,” he says quietly. You nod, already tilting your face up for more. He only smiles and rubs a thumb over your lips..

“Door first,” he teases. You grin, too happy to feel embarrassed as Thor reaches around you and fiddles with the keypad. The door swings open a second later and Thor’s arm around your waist is the only thing that keeps you from stumbling backwards into his apartment.

He walks towards you, forcing you to walk backwards into the entryway. You get a brief glimpse of stone-like walls and a larger space than you had expected. Then Thor kicks the door closed and gathers you up into his arms.

“I have thought of this for some time,” he says. Your grin widens and you press your face into his neck.

“So have I,” you murmur. Thor chuckles, the sound making his throat dance beneath your lips and you can’t help but nip him gently. A sharp inhale followed by a low growl urges you to do it again.

“Will you come to my bed?” He pulls back to meet your eyes. You nod without hesitation and a smile lights his face so brilliantly that you feel dazzled all over again. He sweeps you down the hall, dropping Mjolnir by the bedroom door.

His room is dominated by a bed so large it’s almost comical. The blankets are mounded high, mountains of cream and gold rising over the softest mattress you’ve ever seen. Thor sets you down a few feet from the edge of the bed, giving you a moment to process the room though his patience doesn't last long.

“{YN}.” Thor murmurs your name and you turn to look up at him. With his hair mussed from your hands and his eyes hooded with desire, he’s like a man you’ve never met before. The Thor you knew was a passionate but jovial man. This Thor is all passion and the realization sends a thrill up your spine. 

You step into his arms and run your hands down his chest.

“I have no idea how to get this off.” You tug at the front of his uniform and Thor grins, a hint of humor edging into the desire. It’s a mix you find yourself enjoying.

“Allow me,” he says with a small bow. Then he steps back and begins shedding the battle-torn clothes. You miss how he does it, your focus locked solely on the way his muscles move and roll as more of his clothing falls away. After only a breath he is completely naked and you can’t stop yourself as your tongue runs over your lips. He is every bit as muscled as his uniform makes him look, his skin taut over the toned hills and valleys. 

“This is hardly fair,” he says quietly. Your eyes snap back up to his and you smile at the light dancing in his expression.

Thor arches a brow and you take a step back, hands moving to the closures of your uniform. It’s easier to get out of than his had been and within moments you’re nude, fighting the urge to cover yourself with your hands.

“I have seen galaxies with less beauty to them,” he says softly. Heat floods your cheeks though you’re sure he’s just flattering you.

“Come here.” He motions you closer and you swallow hard. You take careful steps over the piles of clothes until his arms close around your waist. His skin is hot against yours, particularly at the place where he’s moving against your thigh.

He bends over you, tightening his arms until your back bends and opens your throat to his lips. You thread your fingers into his hair and Thor hums with pleasure, the sound vibrating against your collarbone.

“Hold on,” Thor murmurs. His hands close on your thighs and pull you up into his arms until your legs wrap around his waist. He nudges at your entrance for a moment, just enough to draw a gasping moan from your lips. Then he lifts you higher, fingers kneading your thighs as he crawls onto the bed.

Your head touches his pillow, the scent of him rushing over you as he presses your body into the mattress. His hips roll slowly against yours, dragging his length against you until you’re shivering beneath him.

“Please, Thor...” You tangle your fingers in his hair again, tugging him towards you until you can press your lips to his. His hands roam your body, tracing your form until every inch of flesh seems to jump with the shock of his touch. Tight shivers roll through your belly and you press up into him. Thor hums happily against your lips, his arms coming down on either side of your head to brace himself as he rolls his hips again. The space between your bodies is tight, creating an electric friction against your cock. And his. It’s almost hard to breathe, your head spinning with the sensations of him pressed so close against you.

For long, heady moments nothing else seems to exist but Thor’s body over yours. His lips move to your jaw, your neck, your shoulder as you tremble and dig your fingers into the strength of his back.

“I want you.” His words are almost slurred as he drags his lips from your shoulder. Tiny red blossoms mark the trail his teeth have taken and the sight sends another course of pleasure down to your length.. 

“I’m all yours,” you murmur to him. His grin is intoxicating and you push up onto your elbows to leave your own mark on his throat. The resulting groan makes his body tremble over yours as one hand holds your head to him and the other fumbles in the drawer of the bedside table. His hand tightens on the back of your head for a moment and then the distinct sound of a ripping condom wrapper cuts through the room. 

“Gimme.” You press a kiss to his collarbone and look up. Thor arches a brow as he presses the condom into your outstretched hand. You grin, nipping at his jaw as your hands slide down the planes of his stomach until your fingers finally wrap around his length. He groans, eyes closing as your grip tightens. You pump your hand once, twice. But your own impatience wins out and you slip the rubber down his shaft with a quick hunger. Sitting back, Thor opens his eyes and reaches for a bottle on the bedside table with one hand as he pushes you onto your back with the other. A quick snap, a squeeze, and Thor’s fingers glisten with lubricant. 

You roll your hips up, thighs gripping your lover’s waist. His answering smile is distracted, his eyes dropping down to where your body waits for him. He uses first one finger, then two, to prepare you for his length, working slowly and watching your face as he moves. Your eyes roll back with the first penetration and you groan out loud with the second. By the time Thor is working a third finger into your body you’re trembling beneath him. Your belly is almost painfully tight and your head spins with the effort of keeping your orgasm in check. You’ve never been one to lose yourself so quickly. Then again you’ve never been with a god before. 

“God you’re beautiful,” Thor murmurs. You look up at him, unable to think of any response other than reaching for him. 

He hesitates, then slides his fingers from you and aligns his body to yours. You hiss as he enters you, your fingers digging into his back. Thor braces himself over you once again, his fingers gently cradling your face as he kisses you. Slow and deep, it’s impossible to miss the note of possessiveness in his touch. It’s a surety that he belongs over you, in you, and it echoes your own sensations so perfectly that you press up into him, urging him on. He growls low in his throat and gives into you, burying himself completely. You swallow hard, adjusting to the fullness of him as he begins to withdraw, his arms sliding under your shoulders to hold you close. 

The room slowly fills with the sounds of whimpers and groans, growls and gasps. Thor holds himself in check until he’s sure you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is, then he loses himself in you completely. His hands dig into your shoulders as yours hold so tight to his back that you’re sure he’ll have bruises. 

“{YN}.” Thor groans your name as his hips buck off-rhythm. You grin into his shoulder, nuzzling him as you feel his fingers slip between your bellies to wrap around your length. “I want to watch you.”

His fingers begin to tug, running up and over your head to gather the fluid beading there before they slide back to your base. Your back arches and your fingers rake over his chest as every nerve in your body fires off a pleasure so intense it feels like pinpricks of lightning everywhere all at once. You want to hold out, to make it last, but Thor curves himself over you and growls low in his throat as he nips at the hollow of your shoulder. 

Your fingers tighten in the sheets and you’re dimly aware that one may have ripped before pleasure washes the thought from your brain. That thought and every other, save for the sensations Thor is drawing from your body. You cry out, trying to call his name but succeeding only in a wordless sound of need and pleasure. The sound echoes back to you, torn from Thor’s throat as your body tightens around his length and destroys the last trace of his reserve. He loses all sense of rhythm and grinds his hips against you, fingers trembling around your length as the heat of his release explodes inside of you. Your own release traces over his belly and yours, so intense that lights dance in front of your eyes. 

It’s a long moment before he too goes still and then falls against you, body still shaking from the height of his release. He lifts his head from your neck and smiles down at you, a lazy curl of the lips. You lean up and kiss him, whimpering softly as he slides his body from yours and gathers you to his chest. The kiss is brief, both of you still gasping for air.

“I think,” Thor says after a moment, “that I should anger you more often.”

You chuckle and nip at his chest, making him jump in surprise.

“Or you could just kiss me. I think I like that idea better,” you murmur. Thor hums a thoughtful noise, one hand coming up to stroke your shoulder. 

“As you wish,” he says with a shrug. You smile, eyes fluttering as you nuzzle closer against him.

“Now now, no sleeping. Not yet.” He rolls you onto your back and kisses you quickly.

“And why is that?” You ask, arching a brow at him. 

“I have a rule about showering after a mission.” His face is utterly serious. “And I am very eager to see how fun a shower for two can be.”

He pushes off the bed and holds his hand out to you, his body outlined by the sun setting outside the large window behind him. You can’t help but grin as you move to the edge of the mattress and place your hand in his. A shower for two is one of the better ideas you’ve heard all day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song "Kiss It Better" by Rihanna


	5. Wanda Maximoff/ Scarlet Witch

Earth rains down on you and you aren’t quite sure if the nightmare or the explosions overhead are what woke you up. 

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” You squint across the small bunker to where Rogers is stretched out on his bunk.

“As safe as anywhere else within a hundred miles,” he says.

“Remind me again why we’re hiding out in a foxhole instead of kicking ass?” Tony is in the bunk above Steve’s, venting his agitation through the combined use of the a bouncy ball and the ceiling a few feet over his head.

“We have to stick to the plan,” Steve grumbles. “The rest of the team will get here tomorrow and then we take the enemy out all at once. If we go in now we risk-”

“The bad guys splitting up and slipping away,” Tony finishes. He sighs and launches his ball at the ceiling so hard it ricochets, angling straight at your bunk. 

You yelp as the ball pings against your cheek, feeling more like a rubber bullet than a cheap bouncy ball.

“Damnit Stark!” You launch the ball back at him, taking some small pleasure in the way he braces for its impact by throwing his arms over his face.

“Sorry {YN},” Tony calls back. “Complete accident, my bad.”

You glower at him a moment longer, then lay back down. The mattress beneath you feels like it’s stuffed with the rockiest dirt around, the largest rock of all serving as your pillow. 

“How did you do this for so long back in the 40’s?” You glance over at Steve. He looks as rigid and uncomfortable in his bed as you do.

“Practice.” He replies with a shrug. “Though things at home weren’t much more comfortable so I guess I was kinda used to it.” 

“Maybe I should get a lousier bed back at home,” you grumble as you roll back over.

“I’d deal with those nightmares first,” Tony says. “Knocking those out might save you a trip to Mattress World.”

You glare up at Tony as Steve goes up on one elbow to look you over.

“You having nightmares, {YN}?” He asks. You shake your head and Steve frowns. “It helps to talk about them, you know-”

The rest of his words fade out into an indistinct buzz as you feel your anxiety levels rising. This was why you didn’t want to go on this assignment, didn’t want Steve finding out about your nightmares. You could barely bring yourself to think about them and you sure as hell weren’t ready to share them campfire-style with your teammates.

“Captain.” Wanda’s voice floats down from the bunk above you. “Maybe I should help {YN} with those nightmares. Sometimes a private intervention helps more than a group session.” You could kiss her for stepping in. Then again you had that urge most days, so really you were just glad for the excuse to indulge in the fantasy of something you knew would never happen. You’d seen first-hand what happened when teammates got too close. People got hurt or people died or people vanished. You couldn’t risk that, not with Wanda.

Your bunk shakes as Wanda climbs down the ladder, her clothes rumpled from her own attempts to sleep. She’s half-dressed in her battle uniform, just like the rest of you, Tony excluded. Steve insisted it was to allow for a quicker roll-out in the morning, but you still weren’t convinced that the time saved was worth the discomfort of sleeping in your boots. Naturally Steve had been unmoved by this argument.

“Can I lay down with you?” Wanda asks quietly. “It’ll be easier to maintain a connection if we’re closer than my bunk to yours.”

“The more the merrier,” you say with a shrug. The bed is narrow but the two of you manage to wriggle on without too many bruises to the shins. You would definitely be fighting the boots-to-bed policy on the next extended mission. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Wanda asks, one of her arms around your waist.

“I’m fine, Wanda.” You try to smile at her over your shoulder but in the cramped space you’re pretty sure you only manage to give yourself a crick in the neck.

“Close your eyes and do a ten-count breathing exercise.” You feel Wanda’s arm tighten around your waist as she shifts to bring her free hand against the back of your neck. 

Another explosion goes off on the surface over your heads and you slam your eyes closed, breathing hard.

“Calm down {YN},” Wanda murmurs. “We’re going to be okay.”

You nod and take a deep breath that rattles into your lungs like a landslide. One of Wanda’s fingers begins to trace a small circle on the back of your neck and you zero your focus in on the sensation. You time your breath to the movement and fall into the breathing exercise Natasha had taught all of you some months back. She had said it would help keep you calm in battle. You wonder idly if she’d had to use it in hidey-hole bunkers of her own.

“Good, good,” Wanda murmurs. She shifts closer and rests her forehead against your back. Your heart lurches then shifts into a higher gear, costing you some of the calm you’d achieved. 

“I’m going to forge the connection then join you inside your mind. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” You croak the word, suddenly very aware of how close Rogers and Stark are. From the sounds of Tony’s bouncy ball, however, at least one of them is paying you no attention whatsoever. With any luck Rogers’ supersoldier hearing won’t pick up on your hammering heart.

Tingles run down your back and you shiver. From the way Wanda’s fingers have gone still on your neck, you can only assume the shiver is your body’s way of dealing with the mental bridge. 

“I’m coming over,” she says quietly. You take a deep breath, wondering what it’s going to be like.

And then she’s there. And you’re there. And _there_ is there. Your mind has always been something of a mystery to you, an abstract concept full of grey mists and half-seen thoughts that turn into words or actions if you latch onto them.

But from the moment Wanda steps into your mind it’s like someone has raised the house lights in a disused theatre. Everything is a shimmering grey but you can clearly make out the planes of the ground and where the horizon meets those planes in the far distance.

“Holy hell,” you murmur. It isn’t until that moment that you realize that you can see yourself. Not a memory of your reflection, but a construct so close to your physical body that it takes you a moment to remember this is, literally, all in your head.

“You’ve never had a psychic in your mind before, have you?” Wanda asks. You turn to face her, eyes popping slightly as you look her over. Her construct seems more solid than your own and you absently wonder if you could get as good if you practiced or if it was part of her mutation. Her eyebrows go up after a moment and you realize you’ve been staring.

“Nope,” you say. “This is a first.” You should look away, you know you should, but you can’t. Gone are the black leggings and red jacket of her battle uniform. Wanda now wears a black dress that skims her legs at mid-thigh, leaving a few inches of leg exposed before her black socks start just above her knee. Garter straps run up from the socks and vanish beneath the full skirt of the dress, leaving your mouth a little drier than is comfortable.

“Are you okay?” Wanda frowns at you and moves a step closer. 

“Yep, just peachy,” you say quickly. You smile at her, then force yourself to turn away and look around. “So what’s next on the magical mystery tour?” 

Wanda laughs and the sound washes over you like a perfume. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sleep or your fear, but every little thing about Wanda is slipping under your skin tonight in a way you normally refuse to allow. 

“Well, we can work on those nightmares of yours if you’d like.” Wanda says. “Or we can go exploring, which is always enlightening.”

You think of Wanda stumbling across some evidence of your desire for her and cringe. 

“Let’s stick to the nightmares,” you say. “Rogers will be extra grumpy if we go through all this and don’t at least try to follow orders.”

“He never gave us any orders.” Wanda steps up beside you and loops her arm through yours. The contact sends a shiver through what you’ve come to think of as your body and for a moment Wanda’s eyes seem to widen a fraction. But when you focus on her she looks the same as always. 

“What do you think we should do?” You bump your shoulder against her, trying to remember how you usually act when you’re around her. It’s been hard enough to hide your feelings from her when you were able to keep your distance on base or in the Tower. Your stomach lurches as you realize that, had you not been so sleep addled, you never would have agreed to this. The risk was too high. 

“Well that depends,” Wanda says.

“On?” You blink at her, trying for an air of nonchalance and failing. 

She doesn’t answer, not right away. Her arm loosens its grip on yours and she steps around to face you. 

“Are we going to be honest with each other or not?” She frowns at you and a weight settles in your stomach. It’s not a pleasant feeling.

“What do you mean?” You ask. Wanda’s frown deepens and she drops your arm altogether. 

“Something is going on with you,” she says. “I’m only on the surface of your mind so I can’t tell what it is, but I can feel the ripples like... like little earthquakes. Something about me being here is making you very uncomfortable and that can only make things worse.” She frowns a moment longer then glances away as she hugs herself, arms tense. “Do I make you uncomfortable? I know I’m usually the one _causing_ nightmares but I... I just want to help you.” Her voice is so sad, her expression so confused that you can almost hear your heart breaking.

“No... jesus no. Wanda, please don’t think-” You cut off, staring at where your hands have taken hold of her arms. It was an unconscious gesture, though one you had imagined a thousand times. In your daydreams you’d pull her closer and press your lips to hers, stopping only to tell her how beautiful she is. 

The image flits through your mind before you can tamp it down and Wanda’s head snaps up, eyes noticeably wider this time.

“Did you, erm-” You snatch your hands back and step away. “Did you see that?”

Wanda nods, a slow and deliberate motion than makes the weight in your stomach grow heavier.

“Contact like that allows for a deeper awareness,” she says. “I could have shielded myself from it but I... I wanted to understand.” She drops her arms. “And now I do.”

“I’m so sorry, Wanda.” You take another step back. “I know it’s not a good idea for teammates to-”

Wanda doesn’t let you finish. She closes the space between in a movement so fast you’re sure she hadn’t actually moved at all. One minute she’s several feet away and the next she’s pulling you into her arms, a slight wind lifting her hair to dance around your face.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she says. “I liked it.” The weight in your stomach evaporates in an instant.

“You did?” Heat spills into your cheeks when you realize how much shock had leaked into your voice. Wanda only smiles.

“Do you think I’d have crawled into bed with Rogers or Stark? No, I’d have made them sit up or come down on the floor with me.” She wraps her arms around your neck, brushing her lips against your cheek. “But I wanted to hold you and I’ve had the feeling for a while that you’ve wanted to hold me too. So I took the chance when I saw it.”

Part of you wants to argue, sure as you are that you’d been doing a better job at hiding your feelings than that. But the majority of you yells the idea down in favor of wrapping your arms around Wanda’s waist and burying your face in her neck, risks be damned. Your lips skim her throat as you give in.

“Do you actually smell this good,” you murmur, “or is it just my imagination?” 

Wanda laughs again, the sound even headier now that you can feel her body shaking in your arms. 

“A little bit of both,” she answers a moment later. She takes your face in her hands and tugs you from the crook of her neck. Your eyes meet hers and all you can do is try to imprint everything about the moment into your memory. 

“I want you to kiss me,” she says. She doesn’t have to say it twice. You pull her as close as you can, one hand slipping up her back to curve her into the line of your body as you bring your lips to hers. She slips her hands around to cradle your neck, her lips so soft against yours that you’re sure it’s more your imagination than the reality of her. Wanda sighs into the kiss and you decide you don’t care. It’s enough to finally feel her in your arms. 

Wanda pulls away first, her hands sliding around to run down your chest. 

“Wanda.” You take her hands in yours, pulling them away from your body. “We can’t-”

“Why not?” She gives you a lazy smile that coils a low heat around the base of your spine.

“Hooking up with teammates is dangerous,” you say. “It clouds your judgement and-”

Wanda kisses you again, her hands surging forward to grab hold of your waist. For a moment you can’t think of what to do with your hands, torn between stepping away from her and pressing closer once again. When Wanda opens her lips to you, fingers pressing gently into the curve of your waist, she makes the decision for you. 

Your hands cup her face gently as though afraid you'll hurt her. Wanda doesn’t share your hesitation and presses her fingertips into your waist with a hunger that steals your breath. 

“This is such a bad idea.” You press your forehead to Wanda’s the moment she releases your lips.

“Barton and Romanov are doing just fine. It could cause problems but it could also solve them.” Wanda runs her hands up and down your sides, her fingers seeming to grow warmer with each pass.

“How can this solve anything?” You lift your forehead from hers to look at her.

“I can see what your nightmares have been, {YN}. You’re so worried about losing me on a mission, or protecting me and losing someone else, that it’s tearing you apart. If we just admit what’s going on, what we feel, then we can plan for that when we’re out on missions. And we’ll both feel better when we’re off-duty.”

“I... I hadn’t considered that.” You bite your lip, losing yourself in thought. Wanda was right, about the nightmares and about your fears. Your reservations won’t vanish overnight and you’re sure to come up with some new argument by morning. But in the haze of your mind, with Wanda in your arms, it’s enough to silence your protests.

“I’ve been wanting you too,” Wanda presses on. You meet her eyes once again and she smiles at you. The heat around your spine spreads into an ache low in your hips as you slowly return the smile.

“So who tells Rogers?” You tease. Wanda rolls her eyes and presses her body against yours.

“We’ll worry about Rogers when we have to go back to the outside,” she says. “Right now I want to worry about me and you.”

“What about the nightmares?” You don’t hesitate this time as you wrap your arms around Wanda, holding her as she presses closer.

“Normally we’d work through them like a lucid dream. But I have a better idea.”

She flashes you a wicked grin and slips her hands around to your lower back. Her fingers press and knead, working at the ache anchored there.

“I want to help take care of this,” she murmurs. Her lips find yours, then move away to your jaw before you can even think to kiss her back. “And I want you to take care of me.”

“Are... are you sure? How will that help?” You could kick yourself for fighting with her on this. This was the stuff of your dreams, with the unbelievable bonus that Wanda was actually in your arms. 

“You’re so scared of losing me without having the chance to know how you feel, to know if I feel the same. We should take care of that.”

“I think you know how I feel,” you murmur. Wanda nods, then digs her fingers into your back to press your pelvis against hers.

“We’ve both made it pretty clear. So maybe we should enjoy one another while we’re here.”

“We can do that here?” Your words begin to shake as the nearness of Wanda’s body twists around your mind like a spell. 

“I can teach you,” she says softly. “And it’ll do you some good to see that we can be together and the world won’t end.”

You had to admit that her points were valid. She might have been less persuasive from a few feet away, but you weren’t willing to find out. 

“Excellent points,” you say. You smile at her and run your hands across her hips. Wanda grins and angles her lips against yours once more. Her lips are already starting to swell from the pressure of your kiss and you can’t help but groan low in your throat when you notice. Wanda’s hands find their way back to your neck as she parts your lips with her own, dividing your attention between the myriad places her body is pressed to your own.

The kiss is long, rendering you breathless well before Wanda takes one of your hands in her own and guides your fingers to her waist. You finally lift your lips from hers as she slowly slides your hand up her body, stopping only when your fingers brush the slope of her breast. She holds your gaze and presses your closer to her body before releasing it and bringing both her hands to the zipper at the front of your uniform. 

“Wanda.” Your fingers slowly move up the heavy swell of her breast, trembling slightly as you brush over the hard nub of her nipple beneath her dress. 

She smiles, kissing you into silence as she tugs your zipper down. 

“I hate jumpsuits,” she grumbles. A moment more of work and she has the zipper all the way down. She begins pushing the suit off your shoulders and down your arms, forcing your fingers to leave her breast. The tank top beneath the suit goes next, pushed up over your head before you’d finished peeling the jumpsuit down to your waist.

“This is all you wear beneath your suit?” Wanda holds the tank top up, then tosses it over her shoulder. You nod and pull her back into your arms.

“The suit is support enough. Anything more is extra weight.”

“Remind me of that when we get back from this mission,” Wanda teases. Your cheeks burn hot again but she doesn’t give you much time to overthink the moment. Her fingers find a nipple and work it with light twists and tugs. You groan and hold her tighter, taking hold of her chin and tilting her lips back to yours. Wanda moans softly and the moment your lips touch hers your hand is sliding down her collarbone to her breasts. 

You don’t have the same access she does, the dress being all one piece. But her nipples are hard beneath the fabric and it only takes you a few moments to find them.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you growl into Wanda’s mouth. 

“You should fix that,” she answers. You briefly wish you had a bed to hand and Wanda grins into the kiss. 

“You grant wishes now?” You ask as you look over Wanda’s shoulder.

“I can do just about anything here,” Wanda says. “I told you I would teach you.” 

“That’ll teach me never to underestimate you again.” You shoot back. Then you kiss her, hard and hungry. She whimpers and tightens her fingers on your nipple. You slowly walk her back until her knees hit the bed, the two of you toppling onto the mattress in a rush of breath. Wanda crawls backwards into the center of the bed and you follow, your lips never leaving hers until she settles beneath you. One of your knees slips between hers, the heat of her desire heady even through the leg of your jumpsuit. 

“You’re amazing,” you breathe. Wanda giggles and reaches for you, pink staining her cheeks. You guide her hands to your chest and stay on your knees above her. 

One hand tangles into her hair, your skin aching to feel the strands around your fingers. The other slides down her belly, stopping to cup the heat between her thighs. Wanda rocks her hips, urging you on and you grin as you drag the heel of your hand further down. She groans softly and you roll your palm, the heel of your hand pressing against the sweet spot of nerves beneath it. A shiver dances up Wanda’s spine as her fingers dig into your back. 

“Please {YN},” she whimpers. She bucks her hips up, grinding against your palm as her thighs slip further apart. You bury your face in the crook of her, kissing and biting a trail to the low neckline of her dress as your fingers search for the hem. You find it and surge beneath the skirt with a growl of hunger. Her skin scorches yours as you run your fingers up her thighs, seeking the same heat you had found through the fabric only moments before. 

Wanda sucks in a breath when you finally brush your hand over the juncture between her thighs. You fingers edgee beneath the slip of silk serving as her panties and delve between her lips. Wanda’s answering groan rattles her chest against yours and you throb against her leg. You can feel her fingers straining against your hip, trying to reach you without moving her body from your fingers.

“I want to touch you too,” she whines after a moment. You shake your head and slant your lips over hers, drinking in her whimpers and moans like wine. Your fingers stroke and twist, curl and thrust. They coax louder and louder sounds from her until her thighs clamp around your wrist and her body squeezes hard around your fingers. She cries out something that might have been your name but the sound is lost in the moan that follows on its heels. 

Her thighs remain locked around your hand until your fingers begin to tingle, but you keep trying to drive her further. Your fingers don’t still until she collapses back against the bed, thighs trembling as they finally release their hold on you. Wanda’s eyes are closed, her head thrown back as she gasps for air. Her fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave bruises if the flesh had been real. When she opens her eyes they take a moment to focus. Then they do and a lazy smile spreads across her face. Your own lips curl in response as you lean in to kiss her.

“I want more,” she murmurs into your lips. You chuckle and shake your head slightly.

“Are you always this greedy?” You tease. She nips at your chin and grinds up into your thigh.

“I’m not being greedy,” she says. “I’m being honest.” Her body shifts beneath you and her fingers finally find your erection through the fabric of your suit. You groan, head falling forward onto the the pillow beside hers as her slender fingers work against the outline of your cock.

“This suit needs to come off.” She turns her head to nuzzle into your neck, nipping your earlobe as she does. You nod but don’t rise off her, too caught up in the pressure she’s dancing along your length. She teases you until you’re painfully hard, then slides her hands back to your hips and pushes at your suit. 

You rise from the bed and rip the suit from your body, tossing it off into the haze of your mind as you crawl back on top of Wanda. She arches up into you, lips seeking yours as your hand slides beneath her to draw down the zipper of her dress. Wanda begins tugging at the fabric the moment the zipper is down, slipping free first one shoulder and then the other. Your mouth all but waters as her breasts pop free and you bend forward, capturing one nipple in your mouth as your fingers tug and pinch at the other. Wanda moans, a deep sound that seems to echo around you as your mouth switches to the other nipple.

“{YN}!.” Her fingers lock on the back of your neck, tugging your mouth more firmly against her breast as your lips work at it, mouth sucking and greedy. Your hands move down and cover hers, finishing the job of sliding her dress down her legs. She kicks it off and you slide your legs between hers, grinding down into the silk of her panties. The fabric is wet and so, so slick. You groan against Wanda’s breast and hook your fingers into the waist of the garment, growling as the garter straps become tangled. 

“Damn things,” you grumble as your mouth slides from her breast. Wanda nods, her fingers taking the place of your mouth. You’re torn between watching her tease her own nipples and keeping your eyes on the garter straps as you try to unclip them, finally settling for watching her for a few seconds after each strap you remove.

All four straps finally pop free and are tossed in a pile on the floor. Wanda wraps her legs around your hips, her thigh-highs slick against against your back. Your head nudges her entrance and you have to pull back to keep yourself from sinking into her completely. 

“Condom?” You press your forehead to hers, limbs trembling with the effort of keeping your distance. Wanda shakes her head, cheeks bright pink.

“I can conjure one if you want, but we don’t need them here.”

“I keep forgetting this isn’t real.” You can barely breathe out a laugh as your hand slides down her belly to wrap around the base of your cock. Wanda groans as you brush your head up and down her lips and over her clit. Her skin is slick, wet, and you bite your lip to keep from panting. 

“It’s real enough,” she purrs, rolling her hips up against you. Your breath rushes out, taking your resolve with it. You slant your lips across hers as your head slips into her tight heat. She’s so slick around you that you sink a few inches in without thinking. You pause, afraid you’ve hurt her, but Wanda only tightens her legs around you, her fingers tugging against the back of you neck. 

“Holy shit,” you gasp as you drop your head to her shoulder. “You feel... oh god you feel good.” Wanda’s walls flutter around you and you groan, dropping your hips another few inches. Sounds of pure need are streaming from Wanda’s mouth, intermingled with mumbled English and Sokovian. You look up at her, your lids heavy with the effort of easing into her slowly, and find her eyes closed and her head thrown back. 

Your mouth latches onto one nipple as you sink the rest of your length between her legs, your pelvis grinding into hers the moment they make contact.

“{YN}, oh fuck!” Her fingers slide to your shoulders and dig in, sending shocks of pain and pleasure down your back and making your cock twitch inside of her. This only makes her fingers dig in harder and a shiver rolls down your spine. You drag yourself from her, leaving only the tip between her legs before you drive forward again. Fast this time, harder. Increasing speed and pressure until you’re driving her into the bed, your hands on her waist and your mouth switching from one breast to another as her cries grow louder. Her body tightens and flutters around you, drawing you back in when you slide free and taking an almost painful grip when you seat yourself fully within her. She cries your name and her back arches so forcefully that you release her nipple, forced to sit back. 

You want to watch, want to take in every detail of her orgasm. But it’s hard to think past the way her body is clenching and pulling around your cock, drawing your own release closer with every breath. You swallow hard, trying to hold off for just a little longer, wanting to draw the moment out. Wanda’s back finally relaxes and she collapses onto the mattress, her fingers massaging the points in your shoulders where bruises would have formed. Her face is awash in bliss and you bury your face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her as you take hold of her thigh and hike it higher on your waist. Wanda hisses and your head snaps up. But she follows the sound with a deep purr, her body fluttering weakly around you even in the afterglow of her release.

“Come for me,” she murmurs. Her eyes are half-closed, her hair mussed and curling around her face. 

“Say it again.” Your mouth leaves a trail of small red marks along her throat and collarbone, tiny kisses pressed to each spot before moving on to the next. Wanda writhes beneath you, hips bucking up to meet your thrusts. A hard breathlessness coils in your belly as your body tightens against itself, drawing up as your hips tremble.

“Come inside me.” She wraps her arms around your shoulders, breasts soft against your chest. “Please {YN}, I want to feel you come for me.”

The tension in your belly explodes, heat dancing along every limb as you bury yourself in her. You manage two thrusts then bury yourself once more, repeating the rhythm as your hips jerk. Wanda clenches her tight sheath around you and gasps as your release pours into her in hot, heavy jets. You don’t know how many times you release but it’s a heavy load that leaves your head spinning. She’s so soft, so warm beneath you that you consider starting again, your lips already tingling to close around her rosy nipples. But by the time you catch your breath exhaustion is running down your limbs and Wanda is murmuring sweet sounds in your ear that sound like a lullaby in your post-orgasm haze. 

You pull out a few inches then seat yourself once more, relishing the way she feels after you’ve both had your release. Then you slip from her and roll over, pulling her against your chest. 

“When we get back to the base,” Wanda murmurs into your shoulder. “We’re doing this again.”

“Here or in reality?” You ask. Wanda shrugs and snuggles closer.

“Either, both.” She presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Both have their charms.”

“That they do,” you mumble. You shift against her, humming happily when she throws one leg over yours. Your eyes drift closed, your mind working to memorize how she feels against your side, in your arms. When you open your eyes again, everything is a little hazier than before. Panic surges through you and Wanda’s head shoots up from your shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, voice sharp under a shroud of sleep.

“Everything is hazy,” you say. Wanda lets out a breath and relaxes against you, her fingers dancing a soothing rhythm against your arm. 

“That’s what happens when you’re psychically active and falling asleep,” she says.

“Is that... are we safe?” You try to glance at her but she refuses to lift her head from the crook of your neck.

“Perfectly,” she says. “You’ll go to sleep like normal and I’ll return to my own mind. When we wake up we’ll be back in the real world and Rogers will be telling us to suit up.”

“I’d rather stay here,” you say quietly. Wanda hugs herself more tightly against you.

“We’ll be back,” she says. “We have plenty of time to be together.”

You nod, eyes closing once more. This time they stay that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song "Beyond the Veil" by Lindsey Stirling


	6. Sam Wilson/ Falcon

“So you've taken up yoga?”

Sam's voice is the first sound you've heard in the last hour, outside your own breath. You lose your balance in your surprise and fall into a graceless pile on the living room rug.

“You're going to give me a heart attack,” you mutter irritably.

“Then we'll be even,” he says. He perches on the arm of the couch and folds his arms over his chest as he watches you pick yourself up. “I wake up and you're gone. Not a sound in the apartment, your phone off the charger. I thought you'd been called to a mission.”

“I would have woken you up,” you say. You grab your water bottle from an end table and take a long pull.

“I wasn't sure,” Sam says with a shrug. “We've never really talked about it.”

“Well now you know,” you reply. Your tone is sharp and you instantly regret it, but an apology would fall flat in your current mood.

“There's a lot we're not talking about right now,” Sam says softly. You sigh, walk back to the yoga mat and begin a slow overhead stretch, back turned pointedly to Sam’s post on the arm of the couch.

“I'm fine,” you say. “It's just a little insomnia.”

“A little insomnia?” Sam repeats. “I know the signs of post traumatic sleep loss, . Give me a little more credit than that.”

“See, this is why I didn't tell you.” You sigh and drop your arms, then turn to face Sam. “I knew you'd try and turn into a counselor and I don't need you to talk me through this. I just need to work it out.” 

Sam shakes his head and frowns.

“It doesn't work like that,” he says. “Either you talk about why you're not sleeping, or you end up collapsing from exhaustion. I care about you too much to let that happen.”

“You don't need to worry about me so much.” You intend to keep talking but Sam's sigh cuts you off. He purses his lips and gives you a long look, then pushes up from the couch.

“If I don't worry about you, then who will?” He demands, tone growing sharp. “You don't worry enough about yourself, the rest of the team has no idea you're not sleeping, and you won't go talk to a therapist.”

“Because I can handle this!” You know you should keep your voice down, that yelling is only one more piece of evidence that Sam is right. You’re just too tired to care.

“No you can't!” Sam's voice thunders through the living room and you clench your jaw. You could count on one hand, with room to spare, the number of times you’ve heard Sam raise his voice. And it had never been aimed at you before tonight.

“You don't trust me?” You ask as you cross your arms over your chest. Sam sighs and rubs one hand over his face before propping a hand on either hip.

“I trust you,” he says. “But you're new to this world. It's not like normal stress and if you try to handle this like you'd handle unpaid bills or a big project deadline, you're going to burn out.”

You try to hold onto your anger and the fierce expression on Sam's face only makes it easier. But beneath his irritation you can see his concern and it overpowers your desire to fight.

“You're not going to let this go, are you?” You hug yourself and look away, embarrassed your temper had burned out so quickly and hating the vulnerable sensation left in its wake. It felt safer to be angry.

“Not a chance in hell,” he replies. His hands are on your shoulders a moment later and you look up into his eyes. They're warm with concern and you sigh as you lay your head on his shoulder. He hadn't put a shirt on when he came to look for you and his bare shoulder is warm under your cheek.

“If I promise you that I'll go to the therapist tomorrow, will you drop it for tonight?”

“Only if you let me walk you to the office. I don't want something coming up that keeps you from getting the help you need. Or the sleep you need.” You sigh and give a small nod.

“It's a deal,” you murmur.

“Good,” Sam replies. His arms slide across your back and he rubs his thumb across one hip as you press into the warmth of his chest. Silence fills the room and you close your eyes as you focus on the sound of his heart beat.

“You know,” his voice rumbles in your ear. “I'd be happy to help you get some sleep tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” You reply without moving your ear from his chest. “And how do you propose to do that, Mr. Wilson?”

“Physical exertion,” he replies. “Something a little more challenging than yoga.”

“Sparring?” You lift your head and frown up at him, then flush when you realize he's grinning down at you.

“No, not sparring.” He rubs one hand across the small of your back and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I was thinking something a little more intimate than that.” His meaning finally registers and a slow smile forms on your lips.

“Now that you mention it, that sounds like more fun than deep breathing exercises.” You tip your face up for a kiss and sigh when his lips meet yours. They're soft and warm, and his kiss is exceptionally gentle. His hands cup the back of your neck as he slants his mouth across yours. You open to him and he smiles against your lips. Neither of you breaks from the kiss as he slowly steps backwards, leading you back to your bedroom.

You both trip a few times and Sam catches an elbow on a doorknob halfway down the hall, but you only giggle into the kiss and keep going until Sam's legs bump against the edge of the bed. He finally lifts his lips from yours and brushes a hand over your hair.

“Tomorrow morning, first thing,” he says.

“A therapist, I promise.” You sneak a kiss to the sensitive skin where his neck meets his chin and he lets out a low groan.

“Good,” he says. Then he wraps his arms around you and lifts you just far enough to drop you onto the bed. The mattress bounces you a few times and you laugh softly, though the sound fades into a content humming when Sam crawls over you. He supports his weight with a forearm on either side of your face, then peppers the skin of you neck and cheeks with slow, lingering kisses.

“Those yoga pants are in the way,” he whispers into your ear. You wriggle beneath him and finally kick the garment off, silently thanking your earlier self for skipping the underwear when you'd put the pants on.

“Shirt next.” He whispers the words then slides down the bed, his lips leaving a trail of kisses from your collarbone to your hip. You take a deep breath and wrestle out of your shirt, then suppress a small shiver when your skin registers the cool air.

His mouth leaves a trail of fire to the base of your cock. Sam drags his lips up your length and you throb against him, making your toes curl. His appreciative chuckle reaches your ears and you slip one hand to the back of his head. He parts his lips as you guide his mouth to the head of your cock and gently urge him down. Your groan reverberates off the walls as the warmth of his lips slides down your shaft. Sam's tongue curls into a cradle as he sets up a slow bobbing rhythm, sucking gently on every withdrawal. His teeth catch on the ridge of your head and you hiss a sharp breath between your teeth. But he draws your cock back into his mouth within seconds and you can feel the brief shot of adrenaline buzz along your fingers.

“I need you,” you gasp out. Sam hums as your head hits the back of his throat but otherwise ignores your words. Your fingers massage the back of his neck and you buck your hips up, a smile curling up the corners of your mouth when his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. He sucks harder for a moment, then cold air tingles against your wet skin as your cock falls from his lips.

“Roll over,” he orders. His voice rumbles low in his throat and you smirk at him as you flip onto your belly and push onto your knees and elbows. Sam lays himself over your back and reaches into the box the two of you keep tucked just under the bed. He draws out a condom and a bottle of lube, then drags the cold bottle along your skin until you shiver.

“Jerk,” you murmur. Sam presses a kiss into your shoulder blade and you can feel his smirk against your skin.

For all his patience with foreplay, he's never been patient once things really get rolling. You hear him open the condom and you slip one hand back between your legs. Your fingers trail along his shaft as he rolls the condom down its length. You stretch to reach further back and fondle his balls gently, palming them and then rolling them in your fingers.

“Oh hell,” he hisses softly. The bottle of lube clicks open behind you and Sam massages one cheek as he pulls it aside. You gasp as the chilled gel hits the top of your cleft, then moan softly as Sam's warm hands begin to massage it in. Another line of lube slides against your skin and Sam swirls it around with his finger before slowly sliding it into the tight grip of your ass. You moan into the mattress, the sound coming from deep in your chest. Sam leans forward and presses another kiss to your shoulder blade. His lips move up a moment later and you writhe under him as he nibbles on your earlobe. His finger begins to slip in and out of you, curved ever so slightly to ease you open. Your cock twitches in rhythm to his finger's thrusts and you let out a sighing breath as you will yourself to relax.

“More,” you say. You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded and lips parted as you pant softly.

“My pleasure,” Sam replies. He adds another drop of lube, then works a second finger into your ass. You whimper for a moment, then buck your ass back into his fingers. He begins thrusting his fingers once more, spreading them on every withdrawal to ease you open further. You slip a hand down and wrap your fingers around you cock, tugging gently. Sam's free hand joins in a moment later, then forces your fingers away.

“Just be patient,” he chides. You growl into the sheet and glower up at him. He smiles at you and pushes his fingers in as far as he can with a force that makes you gasp. A third finger nudges your anus open and your eyes flutter closed as you push back into the spreading sensation. You whine when Sam withdraws his fingers, then tangle your hands in the sheets when you feel the broad head of his cock nudge your entrance. He drizzles more lube onto the place where his body presses against yours, then lays back over you. His hands find yours in the sheets and close over them as his hips snap forward. You cry out, sharp and loud, and end the sound with a long moan as your body opens to him. 

His breath is fast and heavy in your ear and you push back into him, your own breath frozen in your chest. He groans as he pushes deeper inside of you. One of his hands releases yours and presses to your mouth. You press a small amount of spit into his palm and then his hand is gone. His fingers wrap around your cock a second later and he begins to stroke you, the motions soft and fluid from the lubrication you'd given him. Pre-cum leaks from your slit and he rubs his hand over the your head to gather it into his palm before he returns to stroking your length.

His pelvis finally presses against your ass and he rests there for a moment, your body spread open by his girth as you shudder underneath him. You press back against him when the initial sting of penetration fades away and he slowly begins to withdraw. He slows his strokes on your shaft to keep time with the slide of his cock in your ass and you groan in frustration. You twitch in his hand and he squeezes gently as his his head hits the tight ring of your anus. He pauses again, then thrusts into your depths with one hard stroke. Your knees tremble as pleasure rolls through your body. His fingers work your cock as he sets a steady, pounding rhythm.

Part of you aches to cum, but you hold it back and rock back into him, adding force to the depth of his thrusts. Sam picks up his pace and the sound of flesh against flesh fills the room. Sam's teeth graze your shoulder as his hand tightens on your shaft. The bed creaks under your combined motion but it only encourages you to move harder against him. He buries himself in you and holds his hips still as you continue to rock under him, fucking yourself on his cock.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmurs. He releases your cock and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close against him. You seize the chance to take control of your cock and you stroke it with fast, tight movements. Sam feels the motion and begins thrusting in rapid snaps of his hips, his body pressing down on yours. Stars begin to dance in the edge of your vision and you squeeze your ass around his cock until he moans in your ear.

You cum seconds later, two long streams shooting out from beneath you. Sam's teeth bite into your shoulder as heat explodes deep inside you. He groans his release in your ear as your legs give out and you both fall against the mattress, bodies tense with release. You shoot twice more and it pools against your fingers until Sam slowly frees himself from your ass and rolls to lay by your side. You smile over at him and push off the bed onto shaky legs, then stumble to the bathroom to spend a few moments washing up in the bathroom. You come back to find clean sheets on the bed,

“Did you put a mint on my pillow too?” You tease Sam as he tosses your pillows back where they belong.

“Just get under the damn blankets,” he says. But his smile is wide and bright, and you kiss him as he passes you on his way to the bathroom. You're half asleep by the time he comes back and you frown as his cold skin presses against yours.

“All that effort to put you to sleep and you won't even help me warm up?” He wiggles closer and slips an arm around your waist to hold you close.

“It's not my fault you turn into a popsicle if you're out of bed for five minutes,” you mutter. You relax into the curl of his chest and yawn as he adjusts the pillows. When he finally falls still, you press a kiss into his arm and then sleep, the scent of him filling your senses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song "Is Anybody Listening" by Danity Kane


	7. Tony Stark/Iron Man

“The battle doesn’t seem to be going well at all.” The reporter’s words cut into you and for a brief moment you hate him for the cold look in his eyes. Like watching the Avengers lose a battle wasn’t a big deal, like it didn’t matter if they all came home at the end. 

 

“It’s not.” The second reporter’s voice is thick with fear as she glances over her shoulder. She’s live, shooting from the edges of the fighting. War Machine roars overhead and the sound from the battlefield is momentarily distorted. You lean forward on the couch and search the scene, knowing that if Rhodey is nearby then Tony is too.

 

A flash of red and gold closer to the center of the chaos draws your eye.

 

“Iron Man and War Machine are taking the brunt of the fighting. There’s no sign of Captain America or the Hulk, but the rest of the team can be seen in the area surrounding Iron Man and-” The reporter cuts off as Iron Man rockets up into the air. Something darts after him, flying even faster than Tony. Your fingers knot together and you lean even closer to the TV, nearly tumbling onto the floor. 

 

 _Please_ slips from your lips over and over again like a prayer but you’re just not sure who you’re praying to: the gods, Fate, Death, or Tony.

 

The thing tailing Tony catches up to him and your heart lodges in your throat as the jets of his suit stutter out, limbs locking. Whatever followed him has knocked his power out. The two forms hang in midair, a tableau from your nightmares. Then the thing fires. Sparks rain down from Tony’s suit. And he plunges back to earth. 

 

Lights flash on around you and it isn’t until you feel hands on your shoulders that you realize you’re screaming. Two agents - your protection detail whenever Tony goes on a mission - are tugging you back against the couch. One of them reaches for the remote and you snatch it away, eyes glued to the news. But the feed cuts out just before Tony hits the ground, the local anchors explaining a loss of signal and speculating about EM pulses or massive explosions. 

 

“FRIDAY,” you choke out the word. Your throat feels scraped raw by your screams. “FRIDAY, tell me you still have a connection to Tony’s suit. Tell me he’s alive.”

 

FRIDAY doesn’t respond for a long moment, chiming once to let you know she’s heard you. Seconds tick by, enough of them that your breathing becomes labored with waiting.

 

“FRIDAY.” You scream her name this time, heart hammering too hard to allow for any more patience.

 

“I... I am sorry {YN},” FRIDAY says softly. “I have lost contact with the Iron Man suit. I believe Mr. Stark is-”

 

“Don’t say it.” You glare at the agents at either shoulder because there is no way to glare at FRIDAY. “We’ve lost signal before and he’s always come out okay.”

 

“That was before we had the new suit,” FRIDAY says.

 

“No, I won’t believe it.” You push up from the couch. “Until I see his body, I refuse to think that Tony is dead.” Your hands shake as you stumble down the hall to your room. The bedclothes are still rumpled from Tony’s departure that morning and the smell of his cologne spices the air. He feels so vital, so near, that you can’t imagine he’s anything but alive. You crawl up onto the bed, wrapping the sheets around you and burying your face in Tony’s pillow. With your eyes squeezed shut tight and the smell of him all around you, you can almost forget the image of his body falling back to earth, nothing beneath him but pavement.

 

 

Your eyes crack open as an explosion of chimes goes off over your head.

 

“What is it, FRIDAY?” You grumble. The sun is lower behind the bedroom curtains and you rub the heel of your hand to clear the grit of sleep that has gathered in your eyes.

 

“You must come to the main hall,” FRIDAY says. “I was wrong this afternoon. Mr. Stark-”

 

You’re already up and running, sheets trailing after you onto the floor. FRIDAY’s voice fades to a hum at the back of your mind as you pound down the hall and around the curve of the staircase. There is no sign of your security detail and a smile lights your face as you run the last few feet to the front hall of the house, then skid to a stop

 

The light spilling over the floor is a mosaic of scarlet and gold, reflecting off the curves of Tony’s suit.

 

“I heard you were worried about me.” Tony smirks at you, the hood if his suit rolled back. Bruises are just starting to blossom on one half of his face and down his neck.

 

“I saw you fall two hundred feet.” You take a step towards him.

 

“I’ve taken the plunge a few times, never liked it. The new suits have an impact system built in to keep me mostly alive. Provided I fall from the lower atmosphere, tops.” A glint comes into Tony’s eye. “I wonder if I could kick it up, maybe take a low-orbit approach to things...”

 

“So nothing is broken?” You ask.

 

“Well my other suit is trashed.” Tony shrugs as much as the suit allows. 

 

“I don’t care about the suit.” Your smile falters, the overwhelming joy at his return slowly falling to the crushing relief that he hadn’t died and the realization that, in some small part of your mind, you had been bracing for the worst.

 

Tony’s bravado dims and he opens his arms to you.

 

“I am one hundred percent unbroken,” he says. You nod, smile fading completely as you bite your lip to hold back the sob bubbling up your throat. Tony crooks a finger, motioning you closer, and you throw yourself into his arms as the sob forces its way out. He wraps his arms around you and the hum of the suit fills your head as you press your ear to his chest.

 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’m home now.”

 

“FRIDAY said you might - might have been dead.”

 

“It _was_ a possibility.” FRIDAY’s voice cut in.

 

“Yes, thank you FRIDAY. We’ll be talking about the suit interface later.” Tony’s voice tingles with agitation and FRIDAY’s answering chime sounds almost shamed as the AI falls silent.

 

There’s something calming about Tony’s hugs when he wears the suit. A sense of power and invincibility, not just for him but for you. This hug is no exception and you feel your tears come on more gently than your initial crash made you think possible. Tony cradles your head in one hand, silent as holds you. And for a moment it is enough. Soon, however, you find yourself craving the warmth and strength of his arms without the suit. You step back and Tony lets you, a telling softness in his own eyes.

 

“Lose the suit,” you sniff. For all the comfort and love Tony gives you, he’s never been one to deal well with sentimentality. 

 

“If you insist.” He replies. The suit clicks a few times and a low hiss rolls through the hall as it opens. Tony steps out and you throw yourself at him, your breath rushing out as his arms lock around you again, this time blessedly soft and human.

 

“I was so scared.” You press your face to his neck and inhale, shivering when you find the scent of him beneath the acrid scents of battle.

 

“I -” Tony cuts off and you look up at him. He glances away, blinking fast, and you take gentle hold of his chin to turn his face towards you once more. 

 

“You came home and that’s what matters.” You say. Tony nods, forcing a smile through the tension pulling at his features.

 

He surges forward, throwing you off balance and forcing your hand around to the back of his head as he slants his mouth over yours. His tongue flicks against your lips and you part them without thinking, fingers tangling in his hair as he pulls you tight against his body. You can feel his cock stir against your leg and frown, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

 

“Tony, what’s going on?” You run your fingers through his hair, careful of the bruises mottling half his head.

 

“I’ve spent the last two weeks up to my neck in machinery and paperwork.” He captures your lips again but only long enough to steal your breath away. “And then today I was falling through the air, not sure if the impact gear would hold and the only thing I could think was that I had barely touched you in weeks.” 

 

You’d been asleep when he left for the mission that morning, waking up to find a tablet on his side of the bed loaded with a message letting you know where he’d gone. It had stung but was something you had to get used to when you loved Tony Stark. 

 

“Are you sure you’re not too hurt to-”

 

Tony’s teeth nip roughly at your collarbone and you gasp, fingers tightening in his hair. 

 

“I could be in a body cast and I’d want this,” he murmurs. His lips move up your neck, nipping and tasting their way to the sweet spot just behind your ear. You nod, arms tightening around him as his hands run to your hips. He breaks contact with your neck just shy of his goal and squats down, grabbing hold of your thighs. Your cry of surprise echoes off the walls as Tony lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you the few feet from the hall to the living room and drops you on the couch. 

 

You push up onto your elbows and and watch as Tony pulls his shirt up over his head, revealing a constellation of bruises across most of his torso. A sound of pity catches in the back of your throat and Tony looks at you, the softness in his gaze going hard as his eyes travel down your body. He leans over you and hooks his fingers in the waist of the loose pants you’d left on when you rolled out of bed this morning. They offer him no resistance as he tugs them down your legs and you lift your hips to make it easier on him. Your underwear are plain cotton but the way Tony looks at you makes them feel like the finest silk or lace. Or leather. 

 

“Sit up,” he murmurs. You obey, core tightening as you come up off your elbows. Tony pulls your shirt over your head and tosses it somewhere further into the room. A grin lights his face when he finds nothing beneath the shirt by your naked form.

 

“Lose the pants.” You lean forward and tug at the waist of the tight pants Tony had taken to wearing inside the suit. Tony steps closer, fingers closing over yours as you tug the pants down. 

 

His cock springs free of the waist and you roll onto your knees, lips sliding over his flesh before he can do anything more than groan. You can imagine him above you, head thrown back, as his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head. He hisses something that sounds so close to your name that you almost pull your lips from his cock but his fingers tighten against the back of your head and you slide back down his length, your head bobbing at a steady pace. You suck, tongue alternating between teasing the delicate line beneath his head and cradling his length when you take him to the back of your throat. Tony groans, the sound bouncing off the walls around you, and you feel your cock thicken against your leg. You take yourself in hand, stroking in time with each pass of your lips over Tony’s skin. 

 

“God you’re beautiful,” Tony growls. You grin, teeth scraping a light pressure along the bottom of his shaft. Tony’s answering groan is like fire up your spine and you grip your erection tighter as it throbs. You push yourself to the edge and then retreat until you’re shaking. You nearly lose control the final time and Tony pulls away as you gasp. 

 

“Stay here,” he murmurs. He bends down to kiss you, hand tight against your neck to turn your lips up to his. His tongue takes your mouth and you feel his lips curl into a grin when he tastes himself on your lips. Then he steps away, slipping out of the room only to reappear a moment later with a bottle in one hand and a condom in the other. 

 

You roll onto your back and hold your arms out. Tony drops onto the couch between your thighs, leaning forward and bracing his arms on either side of your head as his mouth descends on yours. You pluck the condom from him, tearing it open without looking. His cock pulses against your belly and you stroke his length, groaning when Tony’s hips stutter a brief thrust against your fingers. 

 

“I need you,” he gasps out between kisses. “Please {YN}.” A shiver rolls through your core and your cock hardens fully against his belly. You sheath his cock with the condom in two quick rolls of a hand and Tony sits back, tearing his mouth from yours with a growl. The bottle snaps open in his hand and you watch as he slicks his cock and your entrance with familiar intimacy. You raise your knees as he tosses the bottle to the ground and moves over you once more, one hand slipping to the back of your neck as the other guides the head of his cock.

 

Heat spreads up your spine as Tony nudges against you, hesitating only a moment before slipping inside. His eyes roll back as he slides his hand to your cock, his body slipping into yours with short, gentle thrusts. He rests his forehead against yours as your hands cup his neck, locking there to hold him close as he seats himself within you, his body warm and heavy inside yours.

 

“Jesus {YN},” he breathes. You want to tell him how good he feels, how much you’ve missed him. But the feel of him inside of you steals your voice and all you can do is take ragged, gulping breaths and nod, hoping he understands. He seems to, as he always does, and he presses a tender kiss to your forehead as he drags himself from you then drives home again. Tiny moans and gasps fill the room and you can’t be sure if they’re yours or his. And as Tony throbs inside of you, his hips bucking out of rhythm as he edges closer to his release, it doesn’t matter. You tighten yourself around him and feel your own length throb in his hand. 

 

“Are you going to cum?” Tony asks. You nod, lights dancing behind your eyes as your body draws up against itself. So close. “Cum for me {YN}.” 

 

A scream of pleasure fills the room as you lose yourself, hot release streaking across your belly and Tony’s. Every muscle in your body clenches and Tony’s groans choke away to silence as his body tenses and pulses above and within you. His release is silent but you can feel it in the tense cords of his muscles and the heat where his body fills yours. 

 

The last of your climax slowly drains from you and you go slack beneath Tony only a moment before he falls against you. You both gasp for air, hands clutching one another close as shivers dance along your limbs.

 

“I’ve missed this,” Tony mumbles. You press a kiss to his temple, too breathless to speak. Tony holds you for a moment longer, then slowly eases himself from you and pushes up to his knees. He stands on shaking legs and gathers up the bottle and condom wrapper from the floor. You watch, lids low with afterglow. He grins down at you, bending to kiss you with languid exploration. 

 

“Come to bed,” Tony murmurs against your lips. He holds a hand out to you and doesn’t have to ask twice. He tugs you to your feet, eyes heavy with exhaustion and pleasure as he grabs a blanket from a nearby arm chair and wraps it around you. You let out a surprised laugh as he sweeps you into his arms carries you up the stairs to your room. He doesn’t smell like battle any more. He smells like you and him and sex, and you tug him down into the bed with you after he sets you down. You wriggle out of the blankets and pull him under the covers with you, shutting out the world as you curl back into his body.

 

“Just a minute,” he mumbles. “We’ll rest for just a minute and then...” His words trail into silence as his breathing deepens. You open your eyes just long enough to find that his are closed, his muscles relaxing into a post-battle, post-coital exhaustion. Your body aches to follow him and you close your eyes, pressing closer until he wraps his arms around you. His heart beats against yours as the black of sleep drifts across your mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song "Mercy" by Hurts


End file.
